Not From The Stars Do I My Judgement Pluck
by Criminally Insane Hermit
Summary: ABANDONED. A series of moments during which various people stumble across Harry and Sev's relationship. Story style and tone changes with character POV. SSHP
1. If Thou Survive My Well Contented Day

A/N: So this is going to be a new WIP. –Ducks objects thrown by Tumble Down readers– I know! I know! Don't worry, TD is still priority, but I really had the urge to write NftSdImJP (Isn't that a whopper.), and it won't be a long one either. It's my excuse to expose the various HP characters as voyeurs, and to expose Harry and Sev as exhibitionists. –Grins– Isn't it swell? The story title come from a sonnet by Shakespeare. The sonnet doesn't have anything to do with the story, but I liked the line. The chapter title also comes from a Shakespearean sonnet. I –heart– Shakespeare.

Anyway, this is post-war, ignores everything after GoF, and lacks both a backstory and a plot. Basically, it's utterly pointless. I love it to death. What it does do is expose Harry's and Sev's relationship to the various characters in the HP world. I'm a little nervous, because I've done fluffy, I've done Snarry, and I've done WIP, but never all three at once. If you're looking for a really serious story, turn around right now.

Today's discoverers are Albus, Minerva, Filius, and Pomona. (That's Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout.)

Enjoy!

Warnings: Slash, AU, Post-War, sexual humor, possible language, possible sexual scenes (It's T right now but it may not stay that way.), and mild OOC.

Disclaimer: I own everything! BTW: My doctor says I suffer from hallucinations. Does anyone know what that means?

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Albus Dumbledore twinkled genially as he watched three of his four Heads of House debate animatedly. The four Professors were wandering around the night-silenced castle, looking for the fourth Head of House, Severus Snape. The youngest member of the Hogwarts faculty had caustically informed Albus that he refused to "rouse myself from bed at two in the morning for an impromptu meeting, one which has been called simply because you and your merry band of sycophants do not feel the need to sleep."

Evidently however, he _had_ roused himself, seeing how when Albus, Minerva, Filius, and Pomona had come round to his chambers, he had not been there. They deduced that he had been unable to get back to sleep, and had so left the chambers to wander the hallways and hopefully catch a few students out of bed. Taking points and assigning detentions always made him feel better.

It was Minerva's – somewhat inappropriate – comment about Severus needing to find a release for his sexual tension that had prompted the debate that the Headmaster was currently watching.

"Honestly Minerva, when would Severus get to release his tension in such a way, and with who? A student?"

Filius' remark evolved into a heated discussion about student-teacher relationships that was periodically interposed with rather disturbing remarks that referred back to their original topic of discussion. It was interesting, but despite how amusing Albus found the argument, the fact of the matter was that Filius and Minerva debating was an even more volatile combination than Severus and Minerva, and Pomona's blush was dangerously bright. Albus came to a halt in front of a familiar painting of a fruit basket, and smoothly cut into the dispute.

"I think that any relationship, whether or not it is student-teacher or happens to involve Severus, is a beautiful thing. As long as love is involved, there is no problem. Let's stop for some hot chocolate, shall we?"

The tone of his voice ended the discussion, but Minerva tried to get in one last shot as she swept past Albus and into the kitchen.

"You do know what Severus would say to that, don't you?"

Albus didn't take the bait.

"Something that astringently abuses the intelligence and romanticism of Gryffindors, I'm sure."

He was answered by three snorts.

The Hogwarts kitchen was an interesting sight at two in the morning. The four house tables were piled high with clean dishes that were being directed into their proper cupboards by a small team of house-elves. The rest of the handy little creatures were out and about the castle, cleaning. Albus waved away the little creatures when they jumped up to greet him and the other Professors, firmly telling them that they would require no assistance. He led the other three over to the large fireplace and set about fixing them a warm drink each, leaving the task of conjuring chairs and a table to Minerva.

The quartet of was comfortably seated and sipping on warm, chocolaty liquid when they heard the sound of the entrance swinging open, then closing once more. Expecting the intruder to be Severus, they were severely surprised when they didn't here the telltale click of his heels on the cobblestone floor. They were shocked further when the house-elves did not immediately rush to greet the visitor. Exchanging confused looks, the quartet got up and moved to get around the large table of towering pots and pans that currently blocked their view of the door.

"It has to be someone who is familiar to the house-elves; otherwise they would have addressed whoever it is." Filius reasoned out in, ridiculously, a whisper.

"Well, it's not another house-elf, they just pop in and out. Maybe a teacher?" Pomona theorized quietly. Minerva shook her head.

"Can't be. The house-elves always say hello to the teachers, they think it's disrespectful to ignore members of the faculty. It has to be a student."

"I take it that we're all whispering so as to not startle our visitor?" Dumbledore asked in a low voice that held no little amount of amusement. The other three flushed.

They had reached the table. Now they could hear slight chopping sounds, showing that the house-elves obviously trusted the guest enough to allow him or her to cook in their kitchen. Feeling rather foolish, but much too intrigued to step into the open and disturb the mystery person, the foursome peaked around the tower of dishes.

The visitor was immediately identifiable as a student, and a male. He was short and thin, and wore flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. He was barefoot. His back was to them, but his mop of jet-black hair, along with the neatly folded square of silvery fabric on the counter next to him, told the Professors exactly who he was. The quartet exchange half-exasperated, half-amused looks.

"Potter."

They were about to reveal themselves, but stopped when the entrance swung open again. Oh-no. The person walking swiftly and purposefully towards Harry was none other than Severus Snape. Harry didn't seem to notice the danger he was in, even though he couldn't possibly not here the clicking of Severus' boots as he strode toward the small Seventh Year. Knowing that they should be helping keep Potter away from Snape's wrath, but unable to bring themselves to stop the drama from unfolding, Albus, Filius, Minerva, and Pomona watched.

"Mr. Potter." Severus' voice was suspiciously neutral.

Harry slowly turned to face him. "Professor."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "What exactly are you doing out here, alone, when you should be in bed?"

Harry raised an eyebrow in return. "I suppose I could ask you the same thing."

Their audience gaped. The boy was insane!

Severus stepped forward until he was a hairs-breadth away from the teen, and glared down at him. "I, Mr. Potter, am a Professor, and can therefore do _whatever I want_. You, however, are a student, and are currently breaking the rules."

The corner of Harry's mouth quirked upwards. "Not really _Sir_. The kitchen is the domain of the Hogwarts house-elves, not of the Hogwarts faculty. Therefore, when I'm here and in the company of the house-elves, I'm not breaking any rules."

Severus raised both his eyebrows. "Better watch yourself, _Mr. Potter_. That almost sounded intelligent.

Harry pouted. "Aren't you impressed?"

The four Professors watching the scene exchanged incredulous looks. It almost seemed as if Harry was flirting! With Professor Snape! Severus' next action shocked them beyond anything they had seen as-of-yet.

He looped his arm around Harry's waist, crushing the small teen against his body. His head bent until his nose was almost touching Harry's, and his voice lowered into a purr.

"I am completely, and utterly, and astonishingly _unimpressed_."

Then Harry's arms were around Severus' neck, and Severus had one hand on Harry's hip and the other on the small of his back, and they were kissing with a fiery passion that had all four of the onlookers, even Albus, flushing slightly. It was the shrill voice of a house-elf that broke the kiss.

"Sirs! Yous is going to be caught!"

Harry glared at the little elf, and then rested his head against Severus' chest.

"Bloody elf."

Severus chuckled.

"He means well."

Harry pulled back a little so he could glare at Severus. "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions."

Severus chuckled again. "He's also _right_, Harry."

Suddenly Harry's expression turned coy. "Have you got any suggestions as to where we can go to avoid being caught?"

Severus smirked. "I did say that you shouldn't be out here alone. You should be in bed."

Harry grinned. "Who's bed?"

Severus leaned in. "That goes without saying."

The four stunned Professors watched the lovers go, and they all knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that next morning, Severus Snape wouldn't be the slightest bit tense.

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A/N: There it is! Love it? Hate it? Review please!


	2. But I Forbid Thee One Most Heinous Crime

A/N: This story style tends to fluctuate with whoever's POV it is. This one is Moody, and it's different from last chapter, because that one was Albus' POV. This definitely has a different feel than last chapter. I actually have no idea what happened. I didn't plan for my story to go from T to M so quickly. -Sighs- Ah, well. It's not very funny, either, but it's got a subtle sort of humor in places. Well, I hope.

Anyway, the chapter title is from a Shakespearean sonnet.

A/N2: A big thank you to all my reviewers! You guys rock my world!

Warnings: Cursing and other -blush- _stuff_, but nothing too graphic

Betaing: I have a beta! I just, er, lost her. So, I'll replace this with the beta'd version later. I figured you guys would want an update.

Disclaimer: -Yawns-

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Something was distinctly Not Right.

Alastor Moody, retired Auror and many-times-over war veteran, could feel it in his bones. It wasn't Not Right in the sense that he was about to jump up and curse everything that breathed (Though he could not deny the effectiveness of that course of action.), but it was enough for him to investigate. He set down his cutlery and moved to stand up, but was foiled by his protesting joints. Alright, time to change tactics.

He gave the large hall he was currently dining in a cursory glance. He and his right and left hands, Aurors Tonks and Kingsley, had been invited to lunch at Hogwarts. It wasn't something out of the ordinary, since many Order members dropped by the school to update Dumbledore on the hunt for the few Death Eaters that had scarpered when the war had ended.

He looked at the students. There was Zabini and Malfoy, both sitting with nonchalant elegance that didn't befit the sons of imprisoned Death Eaters. There was Ravenclaw Lisa Turpin, sitting with her boyfriend Justin Flinch-Fletchley, Hufflepuff. Both had fought valiantly to protect the school, and Moody thought that they deserved love. At the Gryffindor table sat the Golden Trio- Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter. The last was leaning across the table, and apparently flirting with a flustered but pleased-looking Fred Weasley (Both twins had returned to the school after the war, to appease their mother, who had had kittens when they dropped out in the middle of their Seventh Year.). Moody blinked, then shook his head. Potter and Weasley, however odd a couple, were no concern of his.

His eyes passed over the rest of the student body and swept efficiently up and down the Staff Table. His normal eye was watching the faces of the Hogwarts Faculty. Nothing really odd there, except for the fact that Albus, Minerva, Filius, and Pomona all seemed to be having trouble looking each other in the eye. But really, that was hardly worth noting. While his normal eye was preoccupied with faces, his magical eye carefully examined everything beneath the polished wood of the table, in order to see if any roaming hands were reaching for a wand, or a cursed object-

-there! His eye focused on a white-knuckled hand that was clenched, rather painfully he would imagine, on a black-clad knee. The color of the robes and the spider-like quality the hand had identified who the overly-tense teacher was even before Moody's eyes reached the face.

Snape.

What did the filthy little ex-Death Eater have to be tense about? Oh, yes, Moody knew that Snape was a _spy_, but he was firm in his belief that spies of all kinds were untrustworthy, and could switch loyalty the moment the scales tipped. Therefore, he did not trust Snape.

"Kingsley, Tonks, look at Snape." Moody hissed at his subordinates, capably making the whisper come out with the effect of a bark. Unfortunately, his unique ability was wasted on his irritatingly noncompliant underlings.

Tonks rolled her eyes, while Kingsley sighed long-sufferingly. "Mad-Eye, for the last time, Snape is _not_-"

"Shut up and do as I say!"

With the air of two people humoring a doddery old fool, Tonks and Kingsley surreptitiously watched Snape. At first, Mad-Eye could practically feel the barely-paid attention that the two younger Aurors were applying to their task, but gradually their mannerisms changed into those of Aurors who had caught the distinct smell of Not Right.

_Maybe they'll finally have gotten enough proof that I know what I'm talking about_, Moody thought, with more than a smidge of self-satisfaction. He leaned forward to hiss at them.

"What do you notice?"

Kingsley answered, Tonks busy with gazing sharply around the Great Hall. "He's tenser than he should be, and his gaze keeps flickering somewhere. Tonks is trying to pinpoint what he's looking at."

Tonks gasped quietly. "He's looking at _Harry_!"

Moody looked at her sharply. "Potter?"

She nodded. "He's watching him flirt with Fred."

Moody and Kingsley checked, and found that she was right. Snape _was_ looking at Potter.

Kingsley frowned. "Think he's a homophobe?"

Tonks shook her head slowly. "No. I heard that Snape was gay."

Moody's mouth twisted into a sneer. "Maybe he's jealous."

Tonks snorted while Kingsley shot him a disgusted half-frown. The trio returned their gazes to Potter. The black-haired teen tilted his head, causing the sunlight to… _glint_ off of the smooth curve of his neck. He almost appeared to glow. He leaned in close to Weasley, who looked dazed by the closeness and noon-time etherealness of the Wizarding Hero. Next to the pair, Granger and the youngest Weasley boy watched in amusement and bemusement, respectively. Potter flashed a brilliant smile at Fred Weasley and rested his hand on the red-head's arm.

A loud scraping noise drew the Dark Wizard-catching trio's attention. Snape stood up from the table abruptly, striding down the hall and out the door swiftly, his robes billowing out behind him. The threesome exchanged looks. Maybe Moody's sordid suggestion had merit… Was Snape jealous? Maybe they should follow him, see what he was up to.

Their decision was made for them when Harry Potter got up from the Gryffindor table, said a hasty goodbye to his friends, and followed Snape out of the hall. They made their excuses to Dumbledore, and the moment they were out of the hall, they had placed disillusionments over themselves.

Potter was slinking off down the corridor that lead to the dungeons, obviously following the quiet, far-off clicking noise that was Snape's boots on the cobblestone. The Aurors, well trained in the art of tailing, followed Potter silently, despite his almost-run. They turned several corners, bypassing the Potions classroom. A flight of stairs brought them down past Snape's office.

They were far below ground, and the air was almost freezing. Moody had to do a quick charm to prevent their breath from being visible in the frigid air. Why on Earth was Snape down _here_? They saw Potter draw his robes tight around himself and shiver, but the boy didn't slow his pace.

Another set of stairs, the air dropping a few degrees per step. At the bottom of the stairs they saw a long corridor, at the end of which they spotted the tail end of a set of heavy robes whipping out of sight. Potter broke into a full out run, and he opened his mouth to call to the disappearing Potions Master.

"Severus! Stop!"

Potter flew around the corner, Tonks, Moody, and Kingsley right on his heels. Tonks almost tripped upon hearing Snape's name come out of Potter's mouth, but Kingsley caught her by the arm and practically dragged her along.

They came to a stop. They were standing in a cul-de-sac of sorts. The walls of the corridor widened, turning into a round chamber. Torches lit the circular space, revealing barren walls and a wooden door. Snape was leaning against it, back to Potter and the Aurors, breathing heavily. Potter moved forward tentatively, stopping when his hand came to hover above his shoulder.

"Severus?"

A harsh, "_What_?"

They couldn't see Potter's face, but his voice was tentative. "What's the matter?"

Snape whipped around, anger contorting his features. Potter stumbled away from him, moving off to the side of the chamber. Now they could see his face. He looked scared, but there seemed, for a moment, to be a gleam of triumph in his eyes. Snape, however, seemed not to notice.

"What's the matter? What's the _matter?_ You were just flirting with George-Fucking-Weasley!"

"Fred."

"How could you possibly ask- What?"

"I was flirting with Fred-Fucking-Weasley, not George-Fucking-Weasley."

Potter no longer looked at all scared, instead looking amused and triumphant. Snape was seething.

"I don't care _who_ it was, you were still flirting with him!"

Potter shrugged, pulling the careless gesture off well, despite the fact that the cold had him shaking like a leaf. "I'm a teenager, flirting is what I do."

Snape growled, striding across the room angrily. He pushed on Potter's chest, making the teen's back connect with the wall. He leaned in close, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Not when you're with _me_ you don't. You're _mine_."

Then he swooped in for a kiss.

It was forceful, a clash of tongue and teeth that would likely leave both participant's lips bruised. Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley all reached for their wands, ready to hex Snape into the next century. However, Potter's hands scrabbled on Snape's back, bringing the bodies closer together. The Aurors paused. That didn't look like the sort of action someone who was about to be raped would take.

Snape's lips wrenched themselves from Potter's, moving to bite and suckle the pale skin of Potter's neck. It glinted in the flickering torchlight the same way it had in the full-on sunlight, making the Aurors wonder if he hadn't put some sort charm on it. Potter placed a hand on Snape's shoulder, the other on a torch bracket, pulling himself up and wrapping his legs around Snape's waist.

It was about then that the trio of Aurors fully realized that they should leave, or stop the gasping men before them, or _something_, but they could not tear themselves away from the erotic sight. The chill of the dungeon made each short, gasping breath Snape and Potter exhaled mingle in a twining collision of silvery air.

Snape ripped off Potter's shirt, marking the newly-uncovered expanse of flesh with his teeth. In between each bite he panted out a frenzied, "_Mine_." Potter threw back his head, clenching his hands into Snape's hair, matching Snape's words. "_Yours_."

Potter angled his hips, grinding them against Snape. Both men moaned. Potter ground again, matching his movements with Snape's biting. Soon the pair weren't moaning, they were yelling.

It was like a furious, erotic dance. Rage, jealousy, and passion whirled in the air in equal parts. A bite. A murmur. A thrust. It built to fever pitch, drawing in the watching Aurors as if they had merged with the angry lovers. Snape bit. Potter cried out. Tonks felt light-headed. Potter ground his hips. Snape moaned. Kingsley felt a rushing, falling sensation. Moody, too, although not as affected, was riveted by the scene before him.

Then, just as the weight of the air itself seemed to be crushing the five –_two_– of them, Potter and Snape came.

Suddenly the trio of Aurors were themselves again. They were watching, not feeling, Snape bury his head in Potter's neck. The watched, not felt, Potter carefully easing himself to the ground. They _did_ feel the cold, just as Potter did, bare-chested as he was. It came rushing in, almost cruel in it's sharpness after the dull heat and eroticism of what had just passed.

Snape lifted his head, kissing Potter tenderly. It was an unexpected action, especially after the anger he had displayed just moments ago. Even more unexpected an action, he laughed.

"You did that on purpose, you little bugger."

Potter looked at him innocently. "Did what?"

Snape snorted. "Let's get you into my chambers. You look like you're freezing."

Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley watched them disappear through the door and exchanged looks. Without speaking, they picked up their wands, which had fallen to the ground sometime during the- erm- _interaction_. Still silent, they took one last look at the plain, unobtrusive door in the out-of-the-way depths of Hogwarts.

They left.

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A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Review please!


	3. How Heavy Do I Journey On The Way

A/N: I love this chapter. I love, love, _love_ it. I'm not even sure why I like it so much. It just makes me grin the entire way through. Also, in my humble opinion, the style and tone of this chapter are awesome. I'm sorry it took so long, but there were some issues in RL for both me and my beta. Also, though I have the plots for the next four chapters, chapter four and I are currently waging war, so I'm not sure when that'll be up. To tell the truth, I want to get _something_ done with Tumble Down before I go back to focusing on this. -Sighs- And to think, once upon a time I told myself I'd only do one WIP at a time. Anyway, enjoy!

Thank you: To my reviewers and readers, who rock my socks! And to Shakespeare, who graciously didn't come and haunt me when I started stealing lines from his sonnets as chapter and story titles.

Beta: Major thanks to the fantastic Missy Padfoot! She has an astonishing body of work, so you guys should go check her out.

Disclaimer: Whatever. -Sulks-

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Kevin Roth was unusually optimistic, even for a Hufflepuff. He firmly believed that every cloud had a silver lining, and was more inclined than most to completely ignore the fact that the reverse was also true- every silver lining had a cloud. This glass-half-full attitude was usually met with scorn from the Slytherins ("Get out of my way before I get my "friends" to flatten you."), patronizing from the Gryffindors ("Mmhmm mate, that's nice. Oh, there go some of my friends, I'd better run."), and indifference from the Ravenclaws ("Did you hear about the Djinn clans of ancient Babylon and their effect on the transmogrification properties of the Mystic Kettle of Nargledirk?"). Despite these not-so-positive reactions, the attitude remained strong amongst the Hufflepuffs.

As previously mentioned, Kevin was even more prone to optimism that the average badger. That being true, it was a strange sight to see the round-cheeked face, boyish despite the fact that he was in his teens, scrunched up in anxiety and anger. Stranger still, the sixth year was darting down a hallway, doing his utmost best to keep to the shadows and out of the view of anyone who may have been walking down the third floor corridor. The reason for this suspicious behavior- Kevin happened to be out of his common room, at night, past curfew.

Although those who break the rules deserve to be punished for their transgressions, as is fair, Kevin really could not be blamed for his after-hours meander through the darkened halls of Hogwarts. The real rascals deserving of blame for Kevin's predicament where none other than the infamous Weasley twins. Normally Kevin, being an innocent-until-proven-guilty sort of fellow, would not have immediately assumed that the incident that had resulted in him being out past curfew was their fault. However, he had a modicum of common sense. When one sees two known pranksters walking down a hallway that leads to one's common room with self-satisfied looks on their faces, and upon touching said common room's door ends up transported to a dusty, little-used corridor on the third floor, one must assume that said pranksters are to be blamed.

Kevin was quite mild, and had an excellent sense of humor, and so would likely have laughed the incident off, even commended the twins for their work- if their prank had not resulted in him being extraordinarily late for meeting his girlfriend. Having been late for three other such rendezvous in the past, Kevin's anxiety was more attributed to his girlfriend's reaction than to the possibility of being caught.

The location of the corridor that he had appeared in was at the remote heart of a maze of unused, off-limits passageways. He turned a corner and was extremely glad to find himself in familiar territory. Hopefully he would be able to placate his girlfriend when he arrived back at his common room. Kevin rushed around another corner, down a set of stairs, through a door masquerading as a wall, down another corridor, through a tapestry, one more corner and-

Peeves.

Kevin skidded to a halt, staring at the malevolent spirit hovering over the stairwell that would shortcut Kevin two floors and let him out near his common room.

Peeves grinned maliciously.

Kevin took a step back.

"STUDENT OUT PAST CURFEW! STUDENT IN THE HALLWAYS! FILCH! SNAPE! MCGONAGALL! COME QUICK! STUDENT OUT AND ROAMING THE HALLS!"

Swearing viciously, the sixth year turned and ran back the way he had come, Peeves hot on his heels. Around a corner, through a tapestry, down a corridor, through a door. Burst out in the middle of a corridor, up a set of stairs, round a corner, all with Peeves just behind him, yelling at the top of his lungs. Kevin put on an extra jolt of speed, putting two corridors and a tapestry between him and the poltergeist. Grinning triumphantly, he slipped behind a suit of armor and through the door masked by it. He closed the door quietly, pausing a moment.

He waited until he heard Peeves go rushing by, now calling, "Come out, come out, wherever you are! I know you're somewhere around here, my little Huffie!" Still grinning, he turned and trekked, with some trepidation, up the stairwell that the hidden door had been concealing. This stairway was particularly temperamental, never leading to the same place twice. Kevin just prayed that he would end up on one of the lower floors.

No such luck. He groaned upon recognizing a portrait that he knew for certain was on the seventh floor, glaring at the painting of a deer that had once been the entrance to the stairs. It stared innocently back. With a sigh, he trudged down the corridor. The seventh floor was particularly difficult to navigate, with several staircases that led to several destinations. Kevin set off for the one that would take him the farthest down.

He was only a corridor away from the staircase he needed when he heard it. He stopped dead, cocking his head to the side. Again! A barely audible squeak of a trainer. It was somewhere up ahead of him. One squeaky shoe stood in between him and his ticket to freedom. Well, there were also a few floors and most probably a homicidal caretaker to contend with, but still. He needed to get to that staircase. Taking a deep breath, Kevin stuck his head around the corner.

No one was there.

No caretakers.

No squeaky shoes.

Nothing between him and the staircase.

With a quiet, whispered whoop, Kevin dashed across the hall, making a beeline for the protection of the stairs.

"HALT!"

Oh shit.

Foot in midair, he turned his head to look in the direction the order had been issued from. The familiar form of Professor Snape stood at the far end of the hallway, glaring ominously. He was not, to Kevin's sudden confusion, looking at him. He was looking at what appeared to be an empty patch of wall. Perhaps the bat had taken one too many Longbottom-esque explosions to the head over the years. For all Kevin cared, he could take points from as many rule-breaking patches of wall that he wanted, as long as he _didn't look down the hall_. Carefully, ever-so-carefully, Kevin set his foot down. Then, just as carefully, he withdrew into the patch of shadows behind him. He couldn't risk making his way to the stairs now.

He returned his attention to the Professor, who was still glaring at the stone before him. Kevin was rather surprised that the wall didn't crumble under the pressure. Suddenly, Snape shifted his weight, crossing his arms impatiently and intensifying his glare.

"Are you going to show yourself or will I have to force you?" He snapped irritably.

Hmm. Perhaps this was just the man's unique way of dealing with particularly reticent hidden doorways. With a glare as formidable as Snape's, it was not a totally improbable theory. Snape growled; a truly terrifying sound that almost made Kevin wish he was facing down his girlfriend. Almost.

This seemed to do the trick, as the air before Snape seemed to warp, then suddenly, and person appeared.

Short stature, black hair, green eyes, silver cloth clutched in one hand.

Harry Potter.

Damn, Kevin had been anxious to see if Professor Snape's tactics would work on the wall.

Still, this could prove to be an interesting interaction. Kevin had never personally born witness to a Potter-Snape showdown, and was quite looking forward to it. Apparently seeing the two in action was unforgettable. Leaning forward with all the morbid fascination of a teenage boy, he watched the drama unfold.

"Care to explain your presence in the hallway, Mr. Potter?"

"Not particularly." Potter flashed a cheeky grin. Kevin drew in a breath, eagerly looking at Snape for a particularly cutting retort.

"You'll have to do better than that, Mr. Potter." Snape's posture was lax, his voice soft. Tension seemed to be brewing between the two.

Potter raised an eyebrow. "What if I don't want to?"

Snape stepped forward, his arm flashing out to pin Potter to the wall. He leaned in close to the smug-looking teen.

"I don't particularly care what you want."

Potter smirked. "Oh, Professor, that's not very nice. And after I came all the way out here to brighten up _your_ day."

Snape raised his eyebrows. Down the hall, hidden in the shadows, Kevin did the same.

"Well, you see sir, I know how much you adore handing out detentions, and I thought that I would wander the halls, cross your path, and give you the perfect excuse to do that which you love."

Kevin stared at the Gryffindor. This looney-tune was the man who had defeated Voldemort? Maybe power didn't corrupt- maybe it just made you mad. That explained Dumbledore. And Potter. And Snape, Conqueror-Of-Walls. Then, to further Kevin's disbelief, Snape laughed.

The sound was warm and deep, astonishingly pleasant to listen to. Snape leaned in, resting his forehead against Potter's.

"Such a generous soul."

Potter grinned and chirped, "You know it!"

Snape pulled back slightly, resting his hand on Potter's cheek. The two looked into each other's eyes, and suddenly Kevin had the very distinct feeling that he should be anywhere but where he was at the moment. His feeling was justified when Snape and Potter kissed.

It was light, soft, more of a peck than a kiss. It held the familiarity of a long-standing relationship. Kevin was astounded to realize that it looked rather like the ones his mother gave his father right before he left for work. Loving.

The two wizards broke apart, and Snape stepped back. Potter smiled up at him, eyes twinkling.

"I'll assume that I have a detention." It was not a question.

"Eight o'clock. Don't be late."

Potter gave a two-fingered salute, and the two men went their separate ways. Potter around the corner, and Snape down the staircase that Kevin had been so eager to descend. Kevin, for his part, stayed in the shadows.

Interesting interaction indeed.

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A/N: Reviews slaughter writers block!


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